


Lingering

by kathkin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> It just didn’t seem right. Uther was all fire and rage and </em>passion<em>, someone who should go out with, with… well, not exactly in a blaze of glory, but with some </em>drama<em>. With some… well, with some passion.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lingering

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://heriros.livejournal.com/profile)[**heriros**](http://heriros.livejournal.com/). And also dedicated to [](http://kick-flaw.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kick-flaw.livejournal.com/)**kick_flaw**.

It just didn’t seem right.

Uther was all fire and rage and _passion_ , someone who should go out with, with… well, not exactly in a blaze of glory, but with some _drama_. With some… well, with some _passion_.

He shouldn’t be found unconscious in his room by a maid, and then left to waste away slowly in bed, while everyone else slept.

Everyone but Merlin.

Merlin, who had helped Gaius put the King to bed, help him try to revive him, and then, when that failed, offered to sit with him while Gaius got some rest (it had been late to begin with, and after an hour and a half of worrying and calming down servants and courtiers and trying everything he could think of, the old man was exhausted).

So Merlin sat and watched over the King.

Who, quite frankly, looked dead already. Merlin supposed that he might never wake up again, and shuddered.

Arthur had left two days before, to patrol in some of the outlying villages. Merlin and Gaius had thought that there was no way he’d be back in time, but, as it turned out, the route they’d taken had been such a detour, so much stopping and starting, that a messenger could make it out there in six hours, if he pushed himself.

So Arthur could be back by morning.

(It would be a wonderful plan had the messenger not set off as soon as possible, with the message that Uther was ill rather than dying…)

Merlin kept wondering, to his dismay, what Uther had thought before passing out (which he was sure would have been his last thoughts – there was no way he would wake up now).

Had he known he was going to die? Had that thought crossed his mind? Had he had time to think anything at all?

He was going to _die_. Merlin was sure of that. Death seemed to permeate the whole room. He could feel it pressing down on him on all sides (and he could remember feeling this before, with Will and with his mother and Arthur (though they hadn’t died), and other people before that, and it never failed to-).

He sat for countless hours, watching and waiting, so that when something actually _happened_ , his first thought that was he was hallucinating from lack of sleep.

But no, Uther was moving, stirring, muttering something which sounded horribly like _Igraine_ …

Merlin stood up hurriedly, suddenly aware that he was in the presence of the King.

Uther turned to face him, his expression rapidly becoming pure dismay when he saw who was beside him.

“I’ll fetch Gaius,” said Merlin, rather too quickly. “I mean- well, he said to- I mean, if that’s-”

All he got was a blank stare. He gave up, and left the room.  
  


He hung back while Gaius spoke to the King, told him that he was dying, and let his mind drift away, dozed off a little on his feet. He was woken up a few minutes later by Gaius coughing, and overheard the last part of their conversation

“I shall stay with you, Sire-”

“No,” said the King, raising his voice as best as he could manage. “No, you need to sleep.” His eyes flicked to where Merlin was standing. “Leave the boy.”

“Sire, are you-”

“I’m sure he can manage,” said the King, then coughed, and sank down a little further into the pillows. This, somehow, signalled the end of the conversation.

Merlin was left alone, perched on a chair at the dying King’s bedside, and wanting to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Had clockwork been invented, a clock ticking would have been the only sound. As it was, there was silence but for Uther’s laboured breathing.

“We sent for Arthur,” he said, after a few minutes, when he registered with him that Gaius hadn’t mentioned this. The King’s eyes flicked over to him. He cleared his throat. “He’s on his way. He’ll be here by morning.” He didn’t get an answer. “I just… thought you’d want to know.”

There was a long pause.

“He’ll be king by morning,” said Uther.

“He might be,” said Merlin. 

“He isn’t ready,” said the King. “He’s too young.” A pause. “He isn’t ready,” he said again, with more than a hint of bitterness in his voice (and definitely some regret). He turned away.

“You shouldn’t- I mean- well-” Merlin broke off, and swallowed. “Do you mind if- may I-”

“Go ahead.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” said Merlin. “I mean, if- he’ll be fine. Arthur, I mean.”

Uther turned to face him again. “Do you think he’s ready?”

“Why are you asking me?” said Merlin, taken aback.

“You know him better than I.” His gaze turned to the wall.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Merlin. “I mean- I’m just his servant - you’re his father…” he trailed off, the King suddenly looking at him again. It was true, he thought. It really was.

“I see her,” said Uther. “Every time I look at him, I see her.” He fell silent.

“I’m so sorry,” said Merlin. “I- it must have been- I can’t imagine what that must have been like.” A pause, then: “I’m so sorry. But- I mean-” He paused for a moment, then found that Uther’s look seemed to say _go on_. “Sometimes I think-” he broke off.

“Go on,” said Uther, out loud this time. It occurs to Merlin that it doesn’t really matter what he says, that Uther can’t do anything to him any more, and he suspects the same thought has crossed the King’s mind already, but neither of them will voice it out loud.

“Sometimes I think maybe you blame Arthur,” he said. “Maybe. Sort of.”

A long pause.

“I think you may be right.” Another pause. 

“I understand,” said Merlin. “Sort of. I think I’d blame everyone I could too. If it were me. But I don’t really know-”

“You’ve never been in love.” Merlin shook his head. “You’re lucky.”

“Maybe I am,” said Merlin. There was silence for a while.

“Do you think he’s ready?”

“I’m not sure,” said Merlin. “Maybe. Not yet. But he will be. Soon. He’ll have to be.”

Uther blinked. “You’re not as stupid as you seem,” he said. “Are you?”

“I like to think so,” said Merlin.

“You’ll be there for Arthur,” said Uther. It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll never leave him,” said Merlin simply. He almost went on, almost said things like _destiny_ and _two sides of the same coin_ , but he couldn’t help but think that wouldn’t go down well. ‘Destiny’ was a little too close to ‘magic’.

He rubbed at his eyes sleepily. The room was starting to get lighter. He’d been awake all night.

“There are- so many things I should have told him,” said Uther, a hitch in his breath breaking the sentence in two.

“You’ll see him again,” said Merlin. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Tell Gaius,” said Uther, his breathing growing more and more ragged. “Tell him that- Arthur needs to know the truth. He needs to be told.”

“I’ll tell him,” said Merlin, frowning slightly. He wanted to ask. He really did. But he couldn’t.

“And tell Arthur-” he started to say. “Tell him-” He broke off. It was a moment before Merlin realised he wasn’t going to continue.

“You’re going to see him again,” he said. He glanced at the brightening window. “Look, it’s dawn. He’ll be here soon.” He paused for a moment, his gaze returning to the window, and the light. “New day.”

“New day,” Uther murmured. 

Merlin smiled, still staring at the window. He closed his eyes for a moment as the sunlight spilled into the room, and almost didn’t notice the soft sigh that came from the bed.

He opened his eyes, and turned back to the king.

He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving at all.

“Sire?” Merlin said. He leaned forward slightly. “Sire?”

He was dead. Merlin could feel it. There was nothing there any more.

He turned away.

Turned away, covered his face with his hands for a moment, tried to compose himself, tried to work out what exactly he was _feeling_ (there was relief, there was definitely some relief, and growing horror, but mostly just… numbness).

Then he got to his feet, and went to wake Gaius.


End file.
